The Return (an Eye of the Beholder Fic)
by Obi the Kid
Summary: All you Ewan fans, please read this and let us know what you think! This is a story written by BL Anderson. Best known for her Star Wars stories. This is a wonderful short story! I will forward all review to her, but feel free to email her as well! THA


The Return...an Eye of the Beholder fic  
written by B. L. Lindley-Anderson  
Rating PG  
Spoilers--yes  
Disclaimer: These characters and venue are copyrighted to Destination   
Films. I receive no profit from the writing or distribution of this   
story. Please ask before archiving. Direct questions to   
anderson@hiwaay.net  
  
=======================  
  
Joanna lay in his arms. She looked awful...cut up and bleeding.   
Still...even like that, her beauty shown through. Her weak voice was   
practically loud over the silent snow blanket that covered everything.  
  
"I know who you are." She almost smiled. "You took my picture...at the   
museum." He nodded. No words would come to him. Then she looked into   
his face. "I wish you love," she whispered and then she closed her   
eyes.  
  
******  
  
Stephen Wilson sat unmoving on the upper floor of the British Embassy in   
Washington, D.C. The memory haunted him. He couldn't forget it no   
matter how much he tried to push it away. Who would have guessed that a   
detective for the embassy would have become obsessed with a woman he was   
investigating? Stephen wouldn't have himself. If someone had suggested   
it, he would have laughed at them. He couldn't picture himself becoming   
even slightly interested in a mark, especially one who turned out to be   
a murderer.  
  
But Joanna Eris was different. And so was Stephen. He knew he was. He   
had been different since his wife walked out on him, without warning and   
taking their daughter. Sure he knew she wasn't happy and there were   
problems between them, but he had not known...even suspected she had this   
in mind.  
  
Stephen wanted his wife back and he wanted his daughter back. The   
beautiful little girl was an anchor in their life. Probably what was   
keeping them together. But that only lasted so long. Or at least that   
was his speculation. Now he was left to find his own answers. He had   
looked long and hard to find his family, but she had hid herself too   
well and Stephen never found her. After seven years he quit looking.   
Not because he didn't care, but because he didn't know where else to   
look, how else to find them.  
  
One day he received an envelope in the mail. It contained only a photo.   
A black and white photograph of a group of girls dressed in their   
school uniforms. On the back his wife had scribbled, "Guess which one   
is your daughter." The cruelest thing she could have done. To bring   
knowledge of his little girl back into his life...but without letting him   
really know. Stephen had poured over the picture for hours, studying   
each face, looking for his likeness or that of his wife in each face.   
Still it wasn't obvious which one was Lucy. He managed to narrow it   
down, but in the end he couldn't decide with certainty which one.   
However, he made a guess and fixed on one sweet innocent face. That   
little girl became Lucy to Stephen, right or wrong, she was the one he   
chose.  
  
How long after that had he begun to have the visions? He wasn't sure.   
A little girl standing in the room in a uniform, long brown curls.   
"Daddy, why did you leave me?"  
  
Stephen was startled. This was the face from the photo. This was   
Lucy...but she wasn't really there, was she? He knew she couldn't be,   
still he wanted to believe so much. When his wife left, his world fell   
apart. All he really had, all that really mattered was gone. How could   
she have been so cold and heartless to tear their home apart, to tear   
his world apart so suddenly...no warning. Desperately Stephen wanted to   
hold her again, to see Lucy...to know for certain what his daughter looked   
like. He felt like he had almost lost his mind at the time...and now   
perhaps he had, seeing someone who couldn't possibly be there.  
  
"Daddy, why did you leave me?" she repeated.  
  
"I...I...didn't," he stuttered. "I didn't leave. Your mother left." He   
slowly stood and walked over to the apparition.  
  
"Didn't you love me anymore?"  
  
"Oh Lucy! How can you say that? I loved you so much." He knelt down.  
  
"Then why weren't you ever home? You were always at work, staring at a   
dumb computer screen," her voice became hard and she put her hands on   
her hips as she frowned at him.  
  
Wordlessly Stephen reached out a hand. Did he dare hope the impossible   
could happen? Should he get his hopes up? Then his hand reached her   
arm...and kept going. It passed through the vision, not stopping against   
warm flesh. It was not Lucy...not really. And he knew it couldn't be...but   
still.... It didn't hurt to hope, did it? Except when the hope ran out.   
Stephen fell over on his side and sobbed. Lucy was gone from his life   
forever. Forever. He would never see her again.  
  
"Don't cry Daddy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."   
The girl came and sat beside him.  
  
He could almost feel her hand as she reached out to wipe a tear away.   
No, she wasn't real, but still, it was all of Lucy he had left. And so   
he let her stay. His still unsettled mind argued with him that it was   
not good to allow the vision to haunt him, to talk to it. He should   
face reality before he lost it. However, the other side of him, the   
side that ached to hold Lucy again, refused to banish her and completely   
accept reality.  
  
From that day Lucy, or the vision of her, came and went, seemingly as   
she pleased. But in reality it was according to Stephen's state of   
mind, his schedule, how busy he was. Somehow he found a way to have a   
foot in each world without slipping completely from one to the other.   
He thought no one knew. But they did. There was talk behind his back   
that he didn't even know was going on about how "odd" he was acting. No   
one brought it to his attention as long as it was only odd behavior...but   
they had an eye on him.  
  
Wherever Stephen went, Lucy went. She was with him the first time he   
saw Joanna...at the museum. He imagined he heard the woman whisper his   
name. Then later on at the train station in Pennsylvania as he was on   
the verge of reporting in on the woman he was following, Lucy told him,   
"Don't tell!" He was confused. Usually Lucy asked questions about his   
assignments and maybe nagged him about ignoring her, but she never   
interfered...until now. And...for some reason he listened. Why he couldn't   
say, but he didn't tell. He cut short his communication. Lucy said,   
"Don't leave her, she's just a little girl."  
  
That was how it began. That was when Joanna became more than a mark for   
him to track and report on. Joanna became someone he had to watch over   
and protect. And eventually...someone he came to love, even though he   
didn't really know her. He only knew her actions. She had killed a man   
in cold blood. But he was able to let that go. She was only a little   
girl. Joanna didn't really understand what she was doing. She was only   
a little girl. And Stephen had to help her, protect her.  
  
So he followed her...all the way across the country. Saved her from the   
thug in California who beat her up. Used embassy resources to track her   
down to the hospital she had gone to. Followed her to Alaska. There he   
saved her from arrest by federal agents. It was too soon though. He   
had hoped to become acquainted with her and hopefully win her over. But   
he had to save her from arrest...to protect her. She had called him her   
guardian angel. He had to protect her...to show her that her angel had   
not gone away.  
  
And so she was exposed too quickly to the environment that he had   
created for himself. The environment that reminded Stephen of her. The   
same brand of cigarettes that Joanna smoked. Cognac, the only thing she   
ever ordered to drink. But it was too much too fast and Joanna couldn't   
handle it. He had wanted to give her benefit of the doubt, but had to   
think of himself also. And that had paid off. Else she would have   
killed him with his own gun had he not thought to put blanks in it. He   
couldn't believe what she was doing. But he understood...she didn't know   
what she was doing. She was only a little girl.  
  
Even after she tried to kill him and was running from him, he knew she   
didn't know what she was doing. And he had promised never to leave her   
alone. So even as she ran from her guardian angel, Stephen followed...to   
protect her. She was only a little girl.  
  
But she lost control of the car and it went off the road. Ignoring his   
own hurt from laying his motorcycle down on the icy road as he tried to   
stop so suddenly, Stephen ran to pull her from the car.  
  
Joanna lay in his arms. She looked awful...cut up and bleeding.   
Still...even like that, her beauty shown through. Her weak voice was   
practically loud over the silent snow blanket that covered everything.  
  
"I know who you are." She almost smiled. "You took my picture...at the   
museum." He nodded. No words would come to him. Then she looked into   
his face. "I wish you love," she whispered and then she closed her   
eyes.  
  
******  
  
He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it. He had to force   
himself to work. He still had a job to do. Why he still had this job,   
he couldn't say, not after all that had happened. The only thing in his   
favor was that his boss had died in an auto accident. A new man now sat   
in the office and he did not know all about Stephen Wilson. He had a   
good record of investigations. Minor incidents that had been noted on   
his record. Wilson was a good man, a good detective. The new boss   
wanted to give him a chance.  
  
So now Stephen had to give himself a chance. He had said that he'd   
almost lost his mind after his wife left him. He came close again after   
Joanna died. The man was not even sure he remembered the flight back to   
D.C. He had still been in shock. And he wasn't sure why he came back   
here. There was no other place to go. Nowhere that seemed like home.   
Almost on instinct he returned.  
  
Stephen rubbed his face and then placed his glasses back on the bridge   
of his nose. He took a quick glance at the two photos that accompanied   
him everywhere he went...Joanna and Lucy. Then he forced his attention   
back to the computer. Lucy was taken from him. Joanna was taken from   
him. It hardly seemed he had a life now. But here he was, working to   
maintain a living. He must be alive...and so he had to hold a job and   
keep going...he supposed.  
  
It was more automatic now though. There seemed little reason to do it,   
except that there was nothing else to do. Once again he buried his pain   
instead of dealing with it and tried to go forward as if nothing had   
happened. At least that's what he wanted the world to think...that   
nothing had happened. Inside he was shattered though.  
  
Stephen sighed a long deep sigh and opened a file. A summary of the   
case he'd just been assigned. The new boss wanted him to check up on   
the embassy employees to see if they really were all clean. It felt   
dirty, spying on his fellow workers. On the other hand, he supposed he   
could understand. There were incidents such as leaks and minor files   
that had gone missing. Someone in the embassy was selling out it   
appeared and the new man wanted it ferreted out before major files went   
missing.  
  
"Who's that, Daddy?"  
  
Wilson looked to the left and there she was. Lucy. In all that had   
happened she had not left him. Even more than before he wanted to   
believe she was real. But...he knew she was not. He had reached out to   
touch her often enough that he couldn't convince himself otherwise.  
  
"That's the assistant to the ambassador."  
  
"Why are you looking at his file?"  
  
"Because he's one of the suspects for the leaks."  
  
"But...he's on your side, right?"  
  
"It only appears that way, Lucy," another voice replied.  
  
Stephen looked to his right. Joanna sat in the chair next to him,   
staring at the computer screen. He gasped. Just as he remembered her.   
But...it couldn't be her. She died. It must be...just another   
vision...another spectre come to haunt him. He reached to brush his   
fingers across her cheek, hoping...hoping. But they passed through   
her...just as it happened with Lucy. Stephen expelled the breath he'd   
been holding.  
  
"I'm sorry Stephen," she said. "You must have known it couldn't be.   
But...I'll still be here for you. I'll always be here. Lucy and I both   
will, won't we, sweetheart?"  
  
The little girl hurried over to her and climbed into Joanna's lap.   
"Yes. We'll always be right here with you, Daddy. We'll never leave   
you."  
  
END  
  
B. L. Lindley-Anderson  
  
  



End file.
